


mouth full of permissions

by whimsicalimages



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Derek "Nursey" Nurse is Unchill, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hospitals, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 11:05:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8888449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalimages/pseuds/whimsicalimages
Summary: Nursey squints at his laptop. That can’t be right – he blinks, but the email is still there even when he leans forward off the couch pillows to get really close to the screen.
  William J. Poindexter has listed you as his emergency contact. Please fill out the form at this link at your earliest convenience so that it can be processed by the Department of Human Resources at Boston University.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allthelightwecannotsee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthelightwecannotsee/gifts).



> Title from Terrance Hayes’ beautiful poem [“Wind in a Box – after Lorca.”](http://hewn.tumblr.com/post/69698038317) Dear [allthelightwecannotsee,](http://archiveofourown.org/users/allthelightwecannotsee) I admit that I only saw the words "marriage of convenience" and gleefully wrote this, which in hindsight has little else to do with your prompt. Hope you enjoy it regardless! 
> 
> As usual, enormous thanks to [M](http://productivity-is-irrelevant.tumblr.com/) and [A](http://hellaarabella.tumblr.com/) for cheerleading & beta-ing.

_December 10, 2021_

Nursey is jolted out of his uncomfortable doze by the sudden death grip on his hand and simultaneous increase in beeping from one of the monitors in the room.

He forces himself fully awake and sees that Dex’s eyes are at half-mast, and he’s peering at Nursey with exceedingly little comprehension on his face.

“Where the fuck,” Dex starts. His voice is gravelly from two days of disuse. “You look like shit. The slam can’t have gone that bad.”

I missed the slam and I look like shit because I’ve been sleeping in this terrible plastic chair that wasn’t designed for anyone to sleep in, Nursey doesn’t say. “So do you,” he says. “Welcome back, sleeping beauty. You’re in the hospital because you got hit by a car on your way to class.” Like a moron, he doesn’t add.

Dex blinks owlishly at him. He looks around, gaze eventually landing on their joined hands and lingering there. Nursey swallows as the door opens and an orderly bustles in.

“Nurse,” Dex says, staring groggily at the ring on his finger as if he thinks it’ll disappear. He lifts his eyes to Nursey, who is grinning at him in a way he hopes is only slightly wild. “What the fuck is this.”

“It’s a ring, honey,” Nursey says, flicking his eyes towards the actual, real nurse in the hospital room in a way he hopes will serve as an explanation. “We’ve been married since last summer.”

The nurse clicks her tongue. “Might take him a while to come off those pain meds, dear,” she tells Nursey. “Don’t feel too badly about it.”

She checks Dex’s vitals and jots something down on her clipboard before leaving the room.

“What the fuck,” Dex says again.

“Don’t freak out,” Nursey says. “You got hurt and someone called an ambulance and they assumed I was your husband because that was what was listed on your emergency contact form for me.” He coughs, and mumbles, “No idea how that happened.”

“And you decided to just _play along?_ You bought a ring just to _keep up the charade?_ ”

“Relax, relax! They would have kicked me out if I said ‘oh, I’m just his roommate-slash-platonic-life-partner-slash-emergency-fucking-contact but no, we’re only friends,’ so yes, I am keeping up the charade.” Nursey pauses. “Also, I got the rings at Primark for like three bucks. And you need to stop yelling at me and go back to sleep, you got hit by a fucking car! You need to rest!”

“So help me God, Nurse, if you tell me to ‘chill’ right now I will take out this IV and stab you with it, and I’m not yelling at you. My uncle is a goddamn jeweler, I know what the fuck this is and I can very well fucking figure out it didn't come from Primark,” Dex hisses, dislodging Nursey’s fingers from his own so he can wave his hand meaningfully in front of Nursey’s eyes, ring glinting.

Nursey opens his mouth to respond, but the nurse comes back in and adjusts something, muttering under her breath as she writes down – whatever it is she’s writing down. He and Dex are stuck in a détente where Dex’s scowl is progressively growing larger but Nursey’s smile is getting wider and more manic, so hopefully the nurse doesn’t look their way and ask what the fuck is wrong with them.

The nurse leaves again. “Nursey,” Dex says.

“Dex,” Nursey says. “Please.”

Dex closes his eyes, making that face that means he’s trying hard not to yell, takes a deep breath and lets it out with a wince. Nursey frowns – his ribs can’t be liking that even with all the pain meds.

“Why are you here, Derek?” Dex asks, voice small, all the anger faded out into tiredness. He opens his eyes and looks away, towards the ugly pastel-patterned wall.

Nursey’s chest constricts. “I’m your emergency contact,” he says, failing to verbalize any of the other sentiments that come to mind _._

 _Don’t listen to me; my heart’s been broken. I don’t see anything objectively_ , he thinks.

The sheets rustle as Dex shifts minutely. “I see,” Dex says. “Well, you can leave whenever you want. I’m awake and not dead, as you can see. You’ve done your roommate-slash-platonic-life-partner-slash-emergency-fucking-contact duty.”

Admittedly, that makes Nursey grit his teeth. If you really want to shout, that’s a sign that you shouldn’t, Mom used to tell him. “I’m staying,” he says.

“You really don’t need to,” Dex says.

“I do need to,” Nursey says.

“I don’t need your help,” Dex says. “I think the nurses’ve got this.”

Nursey pinches the bridge of his nose in a tell he doesn’t let himself show very often. “Fine. Okay? Fine. Christ, you are the densest motherfucker I have ever met in my entire life,” he says, pushing himself up and out of the horrible chair. “I’m going for a walk.”

-

_December 8, 2021_

BU calls him while he’s angrily tossing things in his basket at the 24/7 Star Market, so he ignores it until he’s paid. It’s not a far walk to their apartment but it’s cold as fuck out and he can listen to whatever auto-alert they sent him when he gets home.

Once he’s locked the door and stuck the groceries in the kitchen, he pulls up the voicemail, putting it on speaker as he tucks things into the fridge.

“Mr. Nurse, you’re getting this call because you’re listed as an emergency contact of William Poindexter, a graduate student at Boston University.” Nursey freezes, thoughts frizzing out. “First of all, Mr. Poindexter is in a stable condition. He was involved in a car accident earlier this evening and is being taken care of here in the ER at Mass General, at 55 Fruit Street in Boston. He broke several bones but was not critically injured, and we may move him over the course of the next day. As his spouse, you have full visitation rights, though we are keeping him sedated for the time being and he may not be lucid when you arrive. Please call our main desk with any questions.”

The voicemail cuts out, and Nursey closes the door to the fridge, fighting the instinct to run outside without shoes and immediately call an Uber. He should have picked up his phone in the store. He shouldn’t have let Dex go to class without clearing the air. He should have said it again.

He fights off the rising panic, holding his breath and counting backwards from ten.

Spouse, the hospital had said. Full visitation rights. Okay, Nursey thinks. Okay. Spouse. They need to have matching rings, right? Nobody will call them out if they have rings.

He walks at a normal pace to his room, forces himself to open his top drawer unhurriedly and dig around for the small blue ring box he knows is buried in there.

One day, when you find someone, you give them one of these, Nursey’s grandma had told him when he turned thirteen, closing his fingers around the box. The other one is for you. They belonged to me and your grandpa. 

Probably this isn’t what his grandma had in mind, but he isn’t exactly about to “find” anyone else, and this is kind of a dire situation, and Dex is in the fucking hospital because he probably didn’t look both ways crossing the street like an idiot and broke ribs or who-the-fuck-knows-what and Nursey needs to stop thinking about all of it before he freaks himself out so much that his hands are too shaky to actually call a ride.

He counts backwards from ten again and then twice more, until he can breathe easier.

-

_September 2, 2021_

Nursey squints at his laptop. That can’t be right – he blinks, but the email is still there even when he leans forward off the couch pillows to get really close to the screen.

_William J. Poindexter has listed you as his emergency contact. Please fill out the form at this link at your earliest convenience so that it can be processed by the Department of Human Resources at Boston University. _

“Dude, did you list me as your emergency contact? BU just emailed me a form to fill out,” Nursey says.

“Yep,” Dex says, not looking away from his own computer screen as he downs some Red Bull, because he’ll always be a gross sophomore comp-sci major at heart. All that’s needed to complete the picture is an empty pizza box on the floor.

Nursey continues to stare at him, willing him to turn around. “You have, in the past, referred to me as ‘the clumsiest person you’ve ever met’ and ‘probably the least helpful phone number in my entire address book.’”

“Yep,” Dex repeats. “Both still true.”

“Dex,” Nursey says, stretching his legs out and digging his toes into Dex’s thigh.

Dex sighs, and finally turns to look at Nursey. “Look, I can resubmit with my mom’s name, but I didn’t want her to drop everything and drive down here if something bad does happen. She can’t afford to miss the hours, and I thought you’d be – okay with it. It’s not like you’ll ever actually get called, so it’s not a big deal.” He pauses. “Are you? Okay with it?”

Nursey pointedly knocks thrice on the wooden end table next to the couch because his moms didn’t raise a son who tempts fate like that. Dex rolls his eyes but bends down and knocks on the floor, because Nursey’s ‘superstitious nonsense’ has infected him.

“Well?” Dex asks. “Seriously, if it’s not fine, just let me know. I didn’t even think they’d email you.” His eyes slide away from Nursey’s.

So you just wanted to covertly make me the first person on the hospital’s call list, Nursey thinks. Awesome. Great communication skills, Poindexter. He clears his throat. “Of course it’s fine,” he says, forcing a grin before reaching over and grabbing Dex in a headlock to ruffle his hair. “I always knew you’d come around to how great and reliable a friend I truly am, and I’m honored that it’s finally happened, after these seven long years proving my worth—”

“Shut up, god, let me go,” Dex says, but he’s laughing as Nursey untangles them. “You’re the worst. And it’s been eight years, anyway.”

“Hm?” Nursey says, already distracted by the bright red of the form email.

“Nothing,” Dex says, eyes already back on his screen.

Nursey blinks, and dismisses it. He tabs back and forth between his most recent paper and his email a few times, before deciding he’d rather just fill out the form now. He’d thought the idea of “working to avoid other work” would end after college but, no, still a facet of his life as a nominal adult.

He fills it out on autopilot until he gets to the last question, which reads, “Please indicate your relationship with the requester.”

There are exactly two choices: a) Parent/Guardian, or b) Spouse/Partner. Nursey opens his mouth to say something, glances furtively at Dex tapping away on his end of the couch, and then closes it again. Dex’s face is outlined in the soft blue light from the monitor, lines hazy in the dark. It makes him simultaneously easier and harder to look at.

 _There is one low, leaning heart-shaped globe left and dearest, can you tell, I am trying to love you less,_ he thinks, and promptly wants to smack himself.

The question stares at Nursey, mocking. He exhales. Like Dex said, it’s not like he’ll ever actually get called, right? No need to overthink – there’s no universe where he’d pass for Dex’s parent. He checks the second option and submits the form before he can talk himself out of it, and goes back to his paper.

-

_December 10, 2021_

Once he gets out of the hospital, Nursey sets off towards the river with his hands jammed in his pockets. There’s already ice at the edges of the Charles, so no wayward sailboats are out on the water.

He sighs, pulls out his phone to text Bitty: _dex finally awake & still an asshole as usual, which means he prob doesnt have brain damage._

Immediately, his phone starts ringing, and he hesitates only a little before answering. Bitty’s always been one of those people who prefers calling to texting, but it’s okay, because it’s Bitty, but Nursey thinks he might catch him out if Nursey’s voice breaks, also because it's Bitty. 

“Hey, Bits,” he says.

“How’s he doing? Jack and I are on standby if you want us to drive right over there, would’ve come yesterday but Jack had a game and I didn’t want to intrude since the last thing Dex needs right now is a commotion,” Bitty says, possibly without taking a single breath. He's probably been pacing in his and Jack's giant kitchen in Providence since Nursey called him yesterday and spilled basically everything.

Nursey huffs out a laugh. “It’s okay, Bitty, he’s irascible as ever. Nearly bit my head off when he saw the rings, but he seems coherent enough. The doctors said he’d probably be able to get out in the next day, since from now on it’s just pain meds and limited movement, but I didn’t get the chance to tell him that before I kicked myself out of his room.”

A group of joggers passes him, all wearing headphones. Nursey watches the pigeons scatter out of their way. The joggers are lucky that yesterday’s snow already melted.

“Oh, honey. How are _you_ doing?” Bitty asks.

“The usual. Still alive,” Nursey says. Still pining after my best friend who ran away after I kissed him and immediately got horribly injured, he doesn’t say. Not like Bitty doesn’t know the critical parts.

“Yeah, you sound just peachy to me,” Bitty says. Nursey can hear the exasperated eyeroll in his voice. “You want us to bring you some pie?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Nursey says. “Dex won’t even be able to eat it yet, and I don’t want to interrupt your plans.”

“You’re not interrupting anything,” Bitty says. “We’ll be up in a couple hours, I’ll let you know when we’re getting close.”

Nursey grins. “All right, Bits.” He knows Bitty will take care of telling the rest of their old teammates – it’s a load off his shoulders. He loves Chowder, but he doesn’t think he can talk him through a panic attack from the other side of the country when he’s so close to having one himself right here on the Esplanade.

“It’s no problem, Derek,” Bitty says. “Take care of yourself. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you,” Nursey echoes. Even if Dex hates his guts and he has to move out of the apartment and start an artist commune on the Cape, at least there’ll be pie in the next two hours.

Drama queen, Dex’s voice says in his head.

Can’t escape the truth even for a little while, Nursey thinks ruefully.

A particularly bold pigeon hops up to him along the railing and coos. Resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at it, he breathes out slowly, watching it steam into the air, and turns to head back inside.

-

_December 8, 2021_

Dex has a night class, which means it’s Nursey’s turn to make dinner. He considers attempting something more elaborate than Trader Joe’s frozen food while lamenting the sad literacy status of the undergrads whose papers he graded today. Being a TA is more painful than he anticipated.

The freezer is looking dire, and the only things in the fridge are a package of tortellini and several of Dex’s horrible cans of Red Bull. Nursey rolls his eyes. Tortellini it is, and he can do a grocery run tonight while Dex is in class to further distract himself from the fact that he has a slam tomorrow for the first time in a long while and hasn’t practiced at all. Maybe he’ll finally get his shit together and ask Dex to come.

By the time Dex gets home, he’s got some sauce simmering on the stove so dinner feels slightly less hasty than it is. Nothing will ever be as good as a Bitty-orchestrated three-course meal, Nursey thinks sadly. He regularly mourns the fact that they live a whole hour away from Bitty and Jack.

“What did we even have in the fridge?” Dex asks, peering into the pot as he unwinds his scarf.

“Tortellini,” Nursey says. “That’s basically it. Tortellini and pasta sauce out of a jar, basically a gourmet dinner over here.”

The eyeroll he gets is almost tangible. “I’ll make real food tomorrow when it’s my turn,” Dex says.

Nursey makes a face at him. “You say that like your definition of ‘real food’ isn't four variations on chicken and pasta.”

Dex shrugs. “Well,” he says, thinks for a bit. “One of them is chicken and rice.”

“I’m telling Bitty you unlearned everything he taught you,” Nursey says.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Nursey ladles out tortellini and sauce and then pulls out his phone. “Don’t test me,” he says, thumb hovering over Bitty’s contact.

Dex raises his hands in surrender, smiling the tiny smile that destroys Nursey every time it appears. “This is going to be the most delicious and well-presented dinner I’ve ever had the privilege of eating,” he says, tone entirely flat.

“Honestly, the sheer disrespect,” Nursey drawls.

“You’ll get over it,” Dex says, cheerfully digging in.

They chew in silence for a few minutes. Dex has that faraway look, like he's trying to solve his latest problem set in his head. _The best is often when nothing is happening. Our lives happen between the memorable,_ Nursey thinks. He’s missing some lines, but Gilbert would forgive him; he has the important bits.

“Hey,” Dex says, firmly not looking at him. “You’ve got a slam tomorrow, right? I saw one of your fridge post-its. You underlined the date five times.”

“Yeah,” Nursey says. At some point, he’ll stop being surprised that Dex notices those. Dex is good at paying attention, which is really inconvenient, because if he stopped paying attention then Nursey could pretend that Dex wasn’t lowkey a terrifyingly good person. “Haven’t really figured out what I’m performing, yet.”

“Typical,” Dex says, taking his bowl to the sink. “I'm sure you'll kill it, anyway. Want me to come for moral support?”

Nursey stifles the ‘please, for the love of God, just hold my hand the whole time,’ that threatens to escape. He hasn’t performed for strangers in a couple of years and he’s apparently totally forgotten how to be chill about it. He’ll do a practice run tonight. “Yeah, that’d – that’d be cool,” he says. Real smooth, Nurse. “That would be super chill.”

“Nevermind,” Dex says loudly, but the corners of his mouth are twitching upwards. “My presence was conditional on you not describing anything about it as ‘chill.’”

Nursey throws up his hands. “When will you let me live, Poindexter,” he says. 

“Never,” Dex says. He checks his watch, swears, and picks up his scarf and hat, trying to put his boots back on with one hand and his scarf with the other. Nursey snickers, and turns his attention to his emails.

“Okay,” Dex says. “I’m out, don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.”

“Set off the super-sensitive dorm fire alarm _once_ and get chirped for half a decade," Nursey mumbles.

“Yeah, yeah. Later, man.”

“Stay warm, love you, bye,” Nursey says absently, scrolling through a fellowship application that one of his professors sent him.

Dex chokes on thin air, and Nursey rewinds what he said and freezes.

“Uh, I meant to say—” he starts, then fails to come up with an end to that sentence that isn’t ‘exactly what I said.’ The words won’t come, because he’s a fucking disgrace of a grad student who just accidentally bared his soul like an _idiot_.

“Don’t,” Dex says, blinking rapidly. “I don’t – I have class. I have to go.”

“Dex, wait,” Nursey says, and promptly almost knocks over his chair in his haste to get over to where Dex is still standing, just inside the door, hand on the knob.

“Nursey, we aren’t,” Dex says, voice desperate, then breaks off. His hands come up to grip Nursey’s shoulders when Nursey steps into his personal space, neither shoving him away nor pulling him closer. Just holding him in place. “Nursey.”

There’s nothing for it – a collective seven years of pining and Nursey can only lean in and press his lips to Dex’s, dry and brief, hoping Dex will understand from the contact. Dex is warm and completely still, and his lips are chapped.

“Maybe I meant it,” Nursey says, pushing the words out into the quiet. _I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only,_ he thinks.

Dex blinks again, and the spell is broken. He shakes his head, hands falling from Nursey’s arms as he backs away. “No, you didn’t,” he says. “Derek, I know you just got over a breakup and I know it was hard but I, I can’t be that, for you. I can’t do it, I’m sorry. I can’t – I just can’t, I have class, I really have to go.”

He’s out the door before Nursey can say anything else. “I did mean it,” he tells the empty hallway.

-

_October 25, 2021_

One would assume, Nursey thinks darkly, that after one year of antagonism and going-on-seven years of pining, he’d be over it enough to be in a functional relationship with someone else – but one would assume incorrectly.

Whatever. He wasn’t really expecting Oliver to last long, although the fight that finally ended things was pretty unpleasant, mostly because Oliver had been right when he’d said, ‘There’s no romance in this relationship because you’re pushing it all into your awful doomed crush on your roommate, which is unfair to everyone involved.’

Nursey sighs, contemplates the general unfairness of life and the specific unfairness of his life, and rolls into a more comfortable position in his blanket cocoon on the couch as the door opens.

He can hear the sound of Dex taking off his coat and dropping his keys on the shoe rack, but makes no effort to look more put-together. Dex has seen him lower.

Dex’s footfalls stop softly on the carpet in front of the couch. “Nursey?” he asks. “You doing okay?”

“Yep,” Nursey lies into the cushions.

The heat clicks on – he should check when the bill is due. Rent-the-musical is all well and good, his mom used to say, but in real life you always need to pay your bills.

“You sure?” Dex asks, hand alighting gently on Nursey’s shoulder.

Nursey turns to look at him, bleary-eyed. Cause of death: Dex's tiny I'm-concerned-about-you frown. _Yes, I have a pretty good idea what beauty is. It survives alright. It aches like an open book. It makes it difficult to live_ , he thinks. “Oliver and I broke up,” he says.

Through the blanket, he can feel Dex’s fingers tighten. “I’m sorry, dude,” he says. “That sucks.”

Nursey laughs a bit, sitting up. “Yeah, it really does,” he says. “It’s okay, though. I kind of knew it was coming.”

Dex lowers himself to the couch next to him. “Wanna talk about it?”

Nursey feels like he’s been stabbed. Sometimes he can see glimpses of just how much Dex has grown since freshman year and it kills him, because he’s gotten to see that happen: number 54986 on the list of reasons why he’s fucked. “Nah,” he says, voice thick. “Thanks, though.”

“Okay,” Dex says. “I’m gonna give you a hug.”

Dex’s arms loop around him tentatively; they’re warm even through the fleece. Nursey clings on, pressing his face into Dex’s shoulder, and lets himself lose track of how long they sit there.

-

_December 10, 2021_

Dex eyes him warily when he comes back into the hospital room, but he’s still wearing the ring. Some fundamental, buried-deep part of Nursey relaxes with the knowledge.

“The nurse told me you’ve been here for like 48 hours straight, which definitely isn’t supposed to be allowed,” Dex says, then hesitates before continuing, “I’m sorry you missed your slam.”

“I don’t give a single fuck about the slam,” Nursey says before he can stop himself. So much for keeping it chill. “I wanted to be here, because you were here, and you were hurt. I wanted to be here.”

Dex just looks at him. The hospital lights wash him out until he’s even paler than he normally is. Nursey violently shoves away the twin urges to tuck Dex in and to feed him soup. “I’m still sorry about it,” he says. “And – running off like that was, uh, my bad. I was kind of out of it but I know you didn’t really mean anything—”

“Didn’t mean anything?” Nursey repeats, disbelieving.

“Yeah, I mean, I know you and Oliver just broke up, and if we’re really having this conversation I didn’t want like, a pity fuck or a rebound or whatever because you probably know I’m into you in a lame way but that doesn’t have to change anything, because you’re my best friend and bizarrely an awesome roommate and I,” Dex says rapid-fire, then deflates. “I didn’t want to fuck it up with my feelings.”

Nursey takes a moment to marvel at how many words in a row Dex managed to force out about emotions before actually processing the words and swiftly realizing that he’s going to tear his own hair out. “Jesus Christ, Dex, don’t you get it? I like making you dinner even though I’m bad at it, I like living with you even though you leave your gross empty Red Bull cans everywhere, I like your stupid red hair and your stupid weird roommate habits and your stupid _face._ ” He’s breathing hard, so he closes his eyes and sets his teeth. He opens them again when he stops feeling like his chest is turning inside out. “I like you. I find you attractive right now, right here, even with a fucking plastic tube in your nose. The last three relationships I’ve had have ended because I couldn’t get over you, and you went and got hit by a fucking car before I could explain any of that!”

He stops himself from shouting the last part, but just barely. _The heart is a foreign country whose language none of us is good at,_ he thinks. Somewhere, somehow, his thesis advisor is laughing at him.

“I think,” Dex begins, then pauses. “I think I’ve been kind of a moron.”

Nursey laughs softly. “Yeah, man,” he says. “You kinda have.”

“If I didn’t have all sorts of weird tubes attached to me right now,” Dex says. “I’d kiss you and not run away this time.” He frowns, eyes drifting down to his hand. “Where did you even get these rings, though?”

Nursey grimaces. “They were my grandparents’ engagement rings,” he says, avoiding Dex’s eyes. “I had them in the back of my desk drawer, y’know, just in case.”

“Fucking softie,” Dex says, but he's smiling.

“Yeah, well,” Nursey says, light. “It’s not like I was ever planning on giving one to anyone but you.”

Dex’s eyes are wide and he sounds a bit strangled. “Maybe in a few years, eh?”

“‘Eh,’” Nursey scoffs. “Who are you, Jack Zimmermann? Anyway, I had the whole thing planned out – seduce you by 27, get married by 30 since we’re not in any rush, adopt at least two dogs before 35, live happily ever after.”

“Wow, long-term planning. Careful, someone might assume you’re a finance major and not an overdramatic MFA grad student.”

“Nobody would even consider thinking it,” Nursey says.

Dex laughs, then curses under his breath, probably at the jostling his ribs have taken.

“Oh my god, stay still, the nurse said you could leave soon so don’t fuck it up,” Nursey says, feeling blindly for Dex’s hand as if he can fix everything by holding it tightly enough.

“You’re gonna mother-hen me even more now, aren’t you,” Dex says, not bothering to make it a question.

Nursey smirks and presses a kiss to Dex’s knuckles. “You know it, bro,” he says.

The nurse comes back in and Nursey leans back, letting her do some reaction tests.

“Okay,” she says, taking out the nasal cannula. “You’re going to have a hard time moving for a while once we wean you off the stronger painkillers, but I’ll have the doctor prescribe you something so you can go home in the next few hours, since you’re lucid now.” She gives Nursey the stink-eye, which he feels is entirely undeserved. “No strenuous activity for at least three weeks, all right? I don’t want any torn stitches or re-cracked ribs from you.”

They both nod, cowed. She ducks out of the room again.

Nursey sniffs. “As if I’d jeopardize your recovery like that,” he says. “Plus, I’ve waited a long damn time, think I can probably wait another couple of weeks.”

“Yeah? Not so sure I can,” Dex says, trying and failing to hide a grin. “Might have to speed up your ten-year plan.”

“I’ll just have to have enough willpower for both of us,” Nursey says, imperious.

“Yeah, yeah, my hero. C’mere,” Dex says, and uses their joined hands to pull Nursey down until he can feel Dex’s smile pressing against his own.

Okay, maybe the ten-year plan could do with some tweaking.

-

_May 20, 2018_

“Hey, Nurse,” Dex mutters. Nursey has been kicking him lightly in the shin nonstop since they sat down in the sun wearing their awful robes and hats. Chowder and Farmer got separated from them in the line and are further along in their row.

“Sup?” he asks. The girl in front of them turns around and shushes him.

Nursey raises his hands, placating, as she turns back around and Dex snickers. President Bivens is still saying something about school pride, and this time it’s Dex who nudges him with his foot.

“Wanna live together next year? I found a pretty good deal on a place near BU,” Dex says, smile just a little bit nervous. The sun turns his hair gold at the edges.

Nursey blinks at him. “Seriously? Not sick of me yet?”

Dex snorts. “Seriously. Unless you’re sick of _me._ ”

Impossible, Nursey thinks.

“Congratulations, Samwell Class of 2018,” says President Bivens, finally.

They throw their hats in the air and everyone is hugging each other. Dex hugs him, quick and light, then looks at him expectantly. Nursey registers that he’s still waiting for a response.

“Yeah,” Nursey says. “Yeah, yes, you nerd, of course I’ll live with you. Yes.”

Dex grins. _I want to be pure flame. I want to be your song,_ Nursey thinks.

Nursey’s a goner.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed it! Catch me yelling about fictional characters [here on tumblr.](http://keensers.tumblr.com)
> 
> Poems referenced, more or less in order, are: [“The Untrustworthy Speaker”](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/49610) by Louise Glück, [“Crush”](http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2009/06/08/crush) by Ada Limon, [“Variation on the Word Sleep”](https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/variation-word-sleep) by Margaret Atwood, [“Meanwhile”](http://exceptindreams.livejournal.com/463513.html) and [“Highlights and Interstices”](https://ashlynnfenton.wordpress.com/2016/06/14/highlights-and-interstices-by-jack-gilbert/) by Jack Gilbert, and [“God is an American”](https://www.guernicamag.com/three_poems_1/) by Terrance Hayes, who also wrote the [titular poem.](http://hewn.tumblr.com/post/69698038317) Fun fact: the first Primark in the US opened in Boston last year (2015)!


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